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I Feel Like a Dad
Last modified on 2011-01-21 05:23:10 GMT. 2 comments. Top.
For those of you who do not know, I live in a house in Provo, UT with three other guys my age. We are all over twenty-four years old and are pretty mature for being college age boys. There is, however, a big difference between being mature and responsible.
Now I understand you might be wondering what possible difference there could be between being mature and being responsible. They are synonyms after all. But what happens when you take a couple of twenty-somethings and put them in a four bedroom house with an eight week and a six week old puppy? Irresponsibility.
My good friend Payden Thompson is a wild land firefighter. That means for weeks on end he hikes around mountains digging trenches, clearing brushes and saving the rest of us from burning. Payden is a great man who has always wanted two dogs, a husky and a boxer. So he got the bright idea to get not just one of them, but both of them, and get them young so they can learn to love him from a young age. The only problem is he decided to do this during the height of fire season in Utah. So while Payden is hiking around the mountains battling thousand degree blazes of fire, I’m at home playing mom to two puppies who’s favorite habits are pooping, peeing, vomiting, and chewing anything they can.
I tell you, I feel like I am a single father caring for two newborn kids. I have to wake up at all hours of the night to make sure they puppies don’t pee all over my bed or anywhere else for that matter (they do enough of that on their own). One morning Sawyer, the husky, decided he wanted to over eat and puked all over the floor. And I’m not talking small piles of puke, I am talking big puke piles of half eaten dog food. All I could do is think to myself “I really don’t want to clean up vomit”. Luckily, I didn’t have to. Echo, the boxer, decided he would clean it up for me and ate the whole pile. Soon after he decided to make room for his food by taking a nice little dump right in the middle of the floor.
Yeah, I know that is graphic, but honestly I shouldn’t be the only one who has to deal with this stuff. I have cleaned up more urine in the last three weeks than I ever did when I had a bed wetting problem. That is a lot of urine, trust me and if you don’t feel free to ask my family.
The sad thing is, I am a cat guy! My brothers all had dogs, I always had a cat. I didn’t have to do anything but scratch it for five minutes every other day and it was fine. Now I’m running around before and after work stopping the two dogs from fighting with each other, or eating another DVD or any number of other horribly ridiculous things they would rather be doing.But even after that, I still love the little fetchers. Let me introduce you to them:
The Husky:
Name: Sawyer Thompson
Age: 10 weeks
Weight: 14.5 lbs
Height: 1’5″
Favorite Toy:
Sawyer loves to spend is days chewing on his brother Echo. His favorite trick to do is grab Echo by the collar and politely thrash and drag him around in the yard. If Echo by chance gets away, Sawyer loves to surprise attack him by plowing him over at full speed.
The Boxer:
Name: Echo Thompson
Age: 8 Weeks
Weight: 10 lbs
Height: 1′
Favorite Toy:
Echo like to spend his time urinating on anything he can. Be it floors, newspapers, grass, concrete, or carpet, Echo will leave his mark on any surface. Recently, he has expanded his fun to picking on his older brother Sawyer. He will hop on Sawyer in the middle of a nap and begin to growl as ferociously as his small boxer body can. This continues until Sawyer gets annoyed where he will begin to drag him across the lawn just prove a point.
These are my roommates pooches that have become kids of my own. Even if I don’t like it, you have to love these two fetchin’ dogs.
Things are Changing in Provo
Last modified on 2011-01-21 05:21:42 GMT. 4 comments. Top.
It’s fall, and in a valley with two major universities and the hub of social life for most single Mormon’s in the world, that means things are changing. You see, I’ve been thinking about this for the last little while and after today’s experiences I feel I need to write about. (That coupled with an insistence to write from @saintassassinx, @craltom, @tsaltom, and @miwahall) Let me preface my remarks by saying that I love Provo, Utah County, and the fact that I’m LDS.
This started the other day as I was driving around Provo around noon. I found myself frustrated in a gridlock of the most retarded traffic I have ever experienced in my life. Now I know for a fact that anyone reading this, who has embarked to the local Macey’s between 10AM and 3PM knows exactly what I am talking about. The foray of vehicles in front of me was ludicrous. Every car was moving about 20 MPH in a 35 MPH zone, and they made the most ridiculous and random lane changes I have ever seen. I ended up riding my already grinding brakes because I wasn’t sure who was going where and when and all I could do in my frustrated state was groan in frustration and take a long way to my destination.
Why? Why on Earth would the fast driving, road rage filled Utah County residents move that slow and that stupid through the streets of Provo? It’s unexplainable, and it is driving me nuts. It wasn’t until Friday August 27th that I realized I wasn’t alone in my psychosis. I had just left the driving range with my friend Chris Evans and we encountered a similar struggle as we passed BYU. A flood of cars blocked the road at about 7 PM which is just absurd. Chris, being the bright kid that he is, pointed out that BYU’s fall semester is starting. Lights started clicking and then I realized why I had been having such a ridiculous time driving around Provo, and I calmed a little.
That was great, until today. If you think driving in Provo is hard, wait until you step into a grocery store on the Saturday evening before school starts. As I turn into park, I signal for my parking stall and a dopey looking guy and gal decide they want to walk between my car and my spot. That caught my attention, but I wasn’t frustrated until they decided they didn’t remember where they had parked, and decided to debate it for a good 45 seconds right where I was trying to park.
The two finally decided to leave and allow me to park. I finally headed into the store where I realized why there were so many people at this particular store. 4 for $8 12 packs of Dr. Pepper, 7 UP brand drinks. Now one of the reason’s I went to this particular location was to purchase bottles of water. Needless to say, I ended up leaving with an assortment of soft drinks en lieu of my H2O. Now the point of this paragraph isn’t to elaborate on nor reiterate my love for Dr. Pepper. I wanted to explain the type of experience one could expect within the walls of the sacred edifice of a Utah County Macey’s. It’s mayhem.
The only thing I can think of to describe their behavior is this: If you want to judge a Mormon’s true commitment to a Christ like livelihood, watch them play sports, and watch them in a supermarket. That is just a little bit of humor, but I just wanted to give a list of things not to do in the supermarket, so here it is:
- Don’t walk side by side at the pace of a snail talking about your relief society message.
- Don’t stand in the middle of an aisle reviewing the products in front of you. No one can get by!
- Don’t cut in front of someone’s cart just to get a better spot in line. It’s rude and you never know when that customer might snap and go all Columbine on you (not saying I’m that person).
- Don’t stand in front of my parking spot. Why? I already addressed that earlier.
- Don’t leave your wallet in your car, forcing you to leave your groceries in the line and fetch your wallet from the opposite side of your Kia (that’s what I did after complaining about all of this stuff).
In the end, I’m one of those morons that I’m complaining about. I’ll just come out and admit it. But the beauty of being non-objective is that I don’t really have to admit that very often. I lapse like everyone else into moments of cliche stupidity. All I can say is I’m working on it. And if you know what I’m saying, you should comment because now I’m feeling pretty stupid. Yeah I can suck at times, but just be glad you have not seen me playing sports. If you have any thoughts, or advice, hit me up on twitter @phudson. My name is Phil Hudson, and I’m just like you.
Dr Pepper: You Make The World Taste Better
Last modified on 2011-01-21 05:09:20 GMT. 4 comments. Top.
I felt inspired to write today because something fantastic happened. I was retweeted by none other than the Dr Pepper Corporation. That may not mean much to you, but to me that means the world. I have been a long time fan of Dr. Pepper. I love it, my father loves it, and his father loved it. We’re fighting at least three generations of addiction, and for a Mormon, that is a pretty big deal.
My family is English, Irish, Danish, Native American, and pretty much any other nationality you could possible think of. We’re mutts, but one thing is sure, we have addictive personalities from all of those groups of people we’ve descended from. In my religion we abstain from addictive products such as alcohol, tobacco, or illegal drugs. I’ve never tasted alcohol, other than cooking ingredients or medicine, but I’m sure that I’d be the most addicted alcoholic you’ve ever met in your life. Dr. Pepper fills that void for me. It does for me what exercise does for someone else. It provides that small moment of happiness in a stressful day. It makes me who I am.
I love the taste. One of my favorite things to do on a hot summer day, is pop open a Dr. Pepper and feel the carbonation bubble on my upper lip as I swallow some of the crisp goodness inside. Just the sound of the can bursting open, followed by the fizzy goodness of the refreshing beverage inside is enough to make my mouth water. Just imagine the chilled goodness sliding down your throat (or if you are like me, let it foam in your mouth before depositing it in your stomach). From Dr. Pepper Jelly Bellies, to Dr. Pepper Chap Stick, I’ve tried it all and it all tastes great!
Every time I indulge myself with a Dr. Pepper, I am reminded of childhood memories, fun times with friends, late nights at IHOP, dates both good and bad, and much more. You see, Dr. Pepper for me is more than just a beverage. It’s a lifestyle, a keepsake, and memory tool. It allows me to enjoy the best parts of my life, while remembering there really is more to it. From the classic commercials of yester-year with the construction worker lifting the Dr. Pepper truck off the ground so he could get a soda, to following their sponsored MLG team Str8 Rippin, Dr. Pepper has had an impact on my life. I’m just happy it’s a good one. So do us all a favor, go buy yourself a Dr. Pepper (even if it’s caffeine free), take a sip, remember some good memories, and spread the love.
As for me, I’m on my way to buy another one, as a salute to an American Institution, the Dr. Pepper Corporation. Follow them @drpepper and remember to ‘Drink a Bite To Eat at 10, 2, and 4.”
Sit Back and Listen
Last modified on 2010-08-23 00:27:26 GMT. 7 comments. Top.
Today was an interesting day. For those of you unfamiliar with college life in Utah County, the entire valley is basically a ghost town on Sundays. Few cars are on the roads, hardly any shops are open and the most popular place to be is actually every other block at an LDS chapel. From 6 AM to 6 PM or later, these edifices with towers stretching high into the sky are an inner sanctum of Mormon social life. What happens after, however, can tell you a lot about who you are on a spiritual, social, and emotional level.
For me, a Sunday usually consists of waking up ten minutes before church starts, throwing on a shirt and a tie, sitting through three hours of religious instruction (which is spent with me wishing I could play Tetris on my iPhone), and rushing home to gorge myself on anything I can find in my fridge. But today was different.
This afternoon I found myself sitting at my desk, attempting to plug in as many lines of dialog and scene description into my most recent screenplay as possible. That, unfortunately, was interrupted with the arrival of my brother and his fiance. They wanted to take a nap and I took that as my excuse to end my miserable attempt at writing this particular screenplay.
My thoughts turned to chocolate, and the small portion I stole from my brothers cupboard to satisfy my intense sweet tooth. Sad news, it didn’t. So as I sat there, thinking about this chocolate I remembered my sister Rachel had just returned from Canada, and brought with her a Wunderbar. Now, there is one thing you have to understand about Phil Hudson, I love chocolate. It’s quite frankly instant happiness for me. It really is. My friend Mike calls me the “Truffle-uf-agus” because we spent January 2009 sitting in our living room watching Battle Star Galactica and eating truffles we got from Kara Chocolates.
Needless to say, I called my sister (one of those rare occasions which she adores, I’m sure) and she happened to be at a BBQ. To make things short, I was invited to go over and I thought ‘Heck, I’m not doing anything anyway, and my brother’s making out with his fiance right here in the same room’, so I headed for Provo.
Now, to understand something about Provo on a Sunday, most people just walk around in their suits and ties and a rather elegant pair of flip flops and white tube socks. They’re all clean cut, with freshly gelled hair and glowing with spirituality. I, on the other hand, am wearing a retro Star Wars Empire Strikes Back t-shirt, some jeans with holes in them, my blue Sperry Top Siders and a 1983 Chicago White Sox hat. My beard is scruffy, my hair is unkempt (hence the hat wearing) and I felt like I’d just woken up from a much needed nap (yeah, it was much needed but it didn’t happen).
I step out of my car in the middle of Suburban Provo, walk up the sidewalk to a house bubbling with BYU students and see my sister sitting with her roommate (whom I would offend completely about four hours later with the admonition that I am a registered Democrat). We greeted each other, and we started the long awkward process of introductions to half the people in her BYU ward (religious congregation). First of all I’m bound to feel out of place because I’m an uninvited guest at a social gathering where everyone knows everyone. Secondly, my being there was like a Lion walking onto the Serengeti where a pride of lion’s is bored and ready to kill something. I’m competition. No matter what, if I speak to any females, no matter who they are, I’m crossing a metaphorical urine stain marking some other jungle cat’s territory.
In the end, I’m a sitting duck for conversations with awkward girls, angry guys (yes, I know this is starting to sound cynical, but it’s not), and yes even those occasional bright stars of BYU that make everyone feel welcome.
I enter the circle of chairs. I take my seat across from my sister. Some dude pulls up a chair, rupturing the structural integrity of this social convention I’ve chosen to enter, he begins to speak with my sister in depth. I’m all alone. The food is just being served so it isn’t long before I’m surround by my sister’s roommate’s and ward friends. They all begin to converse, while I sit back and listen.
One thing I have always loved doing, is people watching. Just take a moment to observe the people around you. Whether it’s nose picking, washing their cars with the window squeegee’s, or picking their crack you can see some pretty awesome things. So naturally, a BYU BBQ is the perfect location to do so. I start by absorbing the conversations around me. I listen carefully for tones, laughter, anything important. The conversation’s range from the benefits of ballet versus a rock concert, majors, minors and everything in between and even roommates. I continue to absorb personality types until my ears finally settle on one person. A blond sitting across from me in the half circle I’ve been left to squander in.
Somehow, the conversation has embarked on a path toward Disney movies (odd yes, but nothing entirely out of place for a conversation taking place at BYU). This particular blond begins to discuss Disney princesses, in particular who everyone’s favorites are. I state very bluntly that Belle has had my heart since I first met her. Another girl says, “I like Ariel because she’s a red head like me”. Another, Aurora, Snow White, etc. That’s when I over hear her start discussing the secret meaning of each princess. “Guy’s who like Jasmin like sluts. Belle is the intelligent one, that means you actually care about a girl’s intelligence” (Not going to lie, that makes me proud). She continues to rant about the deeper meaning of the Disney films, “Ariel can disobey her father and he will sell her soul to save her” on and on.
Then the conversation switches to Ninja Turtles, I firmly believe you can tell a lot about someone based on their favorite Ninja Turtle. I’m a Donatello fan, I want to be cool, but in my heart I’m a nerd, Leonardo fan’s are natural leaders, Michelangelo fans just want to party, and Raphael fans are strong willed and slightly moody. Everyone agrees with me at this point, and she says “Yeah, I guess that does describe me, but I also liked him because the Si was my show weapon in Karate.
This is the point where my eyes bulge with mixed emotions. Frustration, annoyance, and awe that this twenty-something year-old girl quite literally has an opinion on any and everything I could ever bring up. She continues on and on for another twenty minutes discussing the necessity for everyone to know self defense and then be prepared even if you know how to defend yourself. She even goes on to say “I was almost raped and I’m a 2nd degree black belt”.
All-in-all, I’m amazed. Desert arrives so they end up breaking the circle and I’m stuck with two guys, 1 of whom brings up Health Care Reform in a negative connotation (anyone who knows me knows that I have a very strong and loud opinion on this one) and I end up shutting him down with a couple facts he apparently wasn’t aware of. I have a good conversation with the other guy about the film industry and the future of the health industry in America.
All in all, it’s a good day. And by now you’re probably wondering why you even read this long post on my ridiculous website. All you need to know, is you understand where I’m coming from. The world is an interesting place. Look at the people around you, pay attention to the little details they share about themselves and the hidden desires that drive them. That will allow you to communicate better and enjoy life more fully. And wow, sometimes we should just keep a few of our opinions to ourselves. It can drive a man nuts!
Sad Sappy Sucker
Last modified on 2010-02-15 05:28:31 GMT. 2 comments. Top.
My name is Phillip Alexander Hudson. I’m not much to look at, nor do I have much to offer the world at this point in life. I haven’t done anything fantastic, or life altering. I’ve never set a world record or saved someone’s life. I’m an average 24 year old who manages a deli by day, and mans the phones at a call center by night. All in all, I won’t be winning any “Man of the Year” awards any time soon.
Just like most men, I do my best to make it in this world, I try my hardest to help others and enjoy life with friends and family (and trust me, my friends and family are all normal too, though amazing in their own right). It would be fair to say that I am quite simply, normal.
However, as normal and unspectacular as I am, there is one thing that separates me from most men in this world (I don’t dare say ‘all men’ because that would be presumptuous and arrogant). What might that be? My heart.
Since I was a boy I have always lived my life by my heart. I remember as a kid, I wanted to be a clown because I wanted to make people happy. I also wanted to be an artist, so that I could create beautiful things that would brighten the lives of all that saw my work. And even though it was taboo for a boy in Kindergarten, I have loved my whole life too.
In my life, the faces, names, looks, attitudes, personalities, and circumstances have changed but my heart has always loved. Heartache is something I’ve become acquainted with. I know many people who prefer not to love because they “don’t want to be hurt”. I understand this sentiment, and have also donned it as my mantra from time to time. Who wants that anyway? Who enjoys the suffering that comes from knowing the person you care most about in the world is with someone else? Who takes comfort knowing they have been betrayed by a friend or family member who’s gone for the one prize you cherish most in this world? Anyone who has ever loved has felt that ‘pit’ in their stomach, that growing pain that rises from deep in your gut and seems to burst your heart. The effects of which are visible in the tears that flow freely from the ‘windows of our soul’. And how appropriate is that?
I find myself at a stage in life where I am afraid to love or share the feelings within with another. So many friends and family members have married, or fallen in love only to have their hearts ripped out by the person they’ve trusted. Both men and women whom I know, have had their trust shattered like glass on a rough floor. As I listen to the stories of friends and family members, their stories have haunted my ability to share my innermost emotions with another. Yet still I do.
Idealists are frowned upon in our generation, be they political, social, or even romantic idealists. Sadly, the world is so lost that any idealist seems to have their dream taken right from under them by people they love. People will mock and scorn you for believing in something pure, but cheer it on when it’s portrayed on the silver screen or in real life. The hero’s of our society live those ideals, yet they are beset by friends and family all along the way.
Sadly, I find myself caught in a romantic ideological web. I might be naive, I might be out-dated, I might even be an idiot for believing in relationships the way I do. All I know is I am a slave to my heart.
The girls I have ‘loved’ in my life will never know what it is like to feel what I feel. They won’t know the insecurity that comes from within like a brooding monster at the kindling of my first romantic interest. They won’t know what it’s like to force yourself to say something, or not, because you are unsure whether they will be open to your advances. They will never know what it feels like to have your heart pulse faster because they smiled (even if it wasn’t at you). They won’t know the pain one goes through every time you go out, as you try to come up with something original and special for a date with them, as you try to be respectful, yet still maintain you want to be more than just friends. They can never understand how your heart beat pounds harder and faster with every step toward their door, nor the inner battle you must fight to calm yourself as the door opens. And they can never know how your heart ache’s to hold them as you see pure beauty emanating from within their eyes. They can’t imagine what it feels like to wait hour on end for a chance to spend a few hours with them, only to have them blow it off like it was no big deal.
Some of those emotions are reserved for the special ones. I’m not saying I’ve been in love with every girl I’ve ever come to be interested in, that’s more of an ‘in like’. The truth of the matter is, I’ve only loved one woman in my entire life, and I lost her too. Even she will never know what it is like to force yourself to ‘give up’ because you know the man she’s with will make her happier and provide better than you could have. I can say, that has been and still is one of the hardest things I have ever done. Though it’s been more than a year I still feel that respect and adoration for her. It will forever be one of my inner demons, something I must suppress to a dark corner of my heart.
The worst part of loving with all that you have is you always end up a Sad Sappy Sucker. Girls seem to like the guys who will be abusive, or use them. They will always go for the one who leads them down a dark path, be it morally or spiritually. If the guy they say they have ‘always wanted’ is standing right in front of them next to a complete tool with nice abs and a strong jaw, they will choose the one with the tool. And they think a man’s libido will block his rational judgment before a woman will become a slave to her sex drive. In my 24 years, I have seen more girls succumb to a false notion of ‘Love’ than I have men (who honestly care to treat women correctly).
I know I’m overweight. I know I’m half bald. I know I work at a deli. But the difference is, I will love you the rest of my life. The other guy will love you until he’s tired of you. Motivation fixes fat. Hair plugs fix baldness. You can’t fix arrogant-douchbag-itis.
This post has been very sincere. These are things that I feel in my core. I don’t know why I felt I should write this, especially on Valentines day. In all honesty, this Valentines season has been one of the best of my life. I just hope one day I can quit believing in the ideal of True Love, and start loving my True Love.
Resolutions and the Social Funk
Last modified on 2010-01-05 00:37:59 GMT. 2 comments. Top.
I spent the last few days pondering what I wanted to do for this new year. Myy whole life, everyone I’ve known has really pushed the “New Year’s Resolutions”. I’ve seen it on T.V. I’ve seen it on the news. I’ve seen it through my friends and family members. I’ve always struggled with it. I have, however, decided to attempt something this year, that I have wanted to do for more than 5. It’s not really a resolution, just a goal I’ve set for myself.
I once heard that the brightest men in the world read an average of 19 books a year. I want to be one of the brightest men in the world. Not because I’m prideful and only desire to place myself ona pedestal of pompous arrogance. It’s because I enjoy learning. I enjoy being able to communicate with others. I like being informed. I remember when I was about 12 I overheard a conversation between two adults. I didn’t know what they were talking about and that frustrated me. I decided I never wanted to be incapable of continuing a conversation with someone because of my inability to express my opinion. So, naturally, this goal fits. I did however change it slightly.
In 2010, and hopefully the every year that follows, I want to read 24 books. That’s 1 book every 2 weeks for the next year. I think it’s more than accomplishable, yet it will still force me to stretch a little to do so. I want to know what I’m to read this year, so I’ve decided to make a list and devide the number into 6 categories: World Classics, Politics, Self Improvement, Personal, Career, and New Release. This will give me 4 books in 6 categories which I feel enables me to continue to grow in my cultural awareness from the past, present, and future. I hope to achieve it and am looking for suggestions. I already have my first 4 books lined up so if you have any ideas for other books to read, please let me know and I’ll happily check them out.
Hello World Wide Web
Last modified on 2009-12-21 06:00:37 GMT. 0 comments. Top.
Phil here. Just wanted you all to know I am currently fixing everything on this site. I’m excited to have my own website. It’s something I have wanted for a long time, and now that I am here I have the ability to pollute what ever electronic signal is connecting me to my readers. Some people call it a blog. Personally, I call it a streaming list of articles about things I find important. Yeah, I’m working on that one.
I hope to share hear my thoughts on life. Everyday we experience so many individual things that make up our lives. We all have experiences individual to ourselves. And those experiences help us form opinions. With those opinions we live our lives. I submit, that those opinions, though singular to ourselves, can be felt and compared to those of our contemporaries. Those lively treasures allow us to help others through connections physical, emotional, and spiritual.
The idea of being a writer is something we all have contemplated. Now, the internet allows us to do that swiftly and with such far reaching potential, the conquest of this new frontier, though difficult, seems worth it. Now, the question and true issue lies in making it worth while. Is what we say worth being read. That’s the true battle of our modern day journey. Let’s see if I have what it takes to over power this giant of a task. Join me on the journey, or not. I’ll do it succeed or fail.
Comments? Hit me up on Twitter. @phudson
